


The First Time It Became Something More

by h4t08



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22069441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h4t08/pseuds/h4t08
Summary: They both know the rules and the ramifications of their actions, yet, they had both come to the same conclusion that if they don’t speak of these times, then they are not real.Plausible deniability.He nudges his body from under her. “I have to go.”
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 94
Kudos: 168





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before 'Divide and Conquer'.

“Ohh, yes,” she flicks her hips against his, her fingers combing through her short hair. She wishes during times like these that she had kept it longer.

He grabs onto her hips, helping her to keep a steady rhythm as he thrusts into her in a strong, steady beat.

The familiar flurry of tidal waves begins to crest and pitch within her belly, the peak of her orgasm a hair’s breadth away. “Oh, god,” she closes her eyes as intensity builds.

“Look at me.”

His mumbling words catch her off guard, yet, she follows his directive; she always has ever since she joined the Stargate Program. She flutters her lashes open to look at him through the anonymity of her dark bedroom, the strength of his passion feeding their hungry desires.

“Just like that.” His rhythm quickens just as her speed falters.

It takes all the strength she has left to keep her eyes trained on him when her orgasm blossoms and explodes within the pit of her belly, her lips parted as a silent moan rips from her cloistered throat. Just as she floats like a leaf down from her high, his large hand fans out, the tip of his thumb rubbing tight circles along her clit. A wave, monumental compared to the other ones she had experienced before with him, tugs her hard from her belly button and crashes square into her chest.

She has no choice but to slam her eyes shut as her body succumbs to the pleasures he willingly gives her, her muscles quivering helplessly, much needed oxygen caught in her throat as he reaches his own peak with the final thrust of his hips. Unwilling to keep herself up, she collapses onto his chest.

Just as she climbs down from her high, she feels his arms wrap around her body, the tip of his fingers pressing into the small divots of her spine. “I have to go soon.”

She nuzzles further into his chest, her palms holding him still from his ribs. “Stay.” She hears her breath catching within his lungs. “Just for a few more minutes.”

“I shouldn’t,” yet, despite his tense muscles, he quietly recants, “only for a few more minutes.”

Usually between the moment he reaches his climax to when he closes the door to her bedroom, they are spent in silent thoughts. Never once had they spoken, they had never dared to, not when the risk of having this thing between them become real and tangible. They both know the rules and the ramifications of their actions, yet, they had both come to the same conclusion that if they don’t speak of these times, then they are not real.

_Plausible deniability_.

He nudges his body from under her. “I have to go.”

She knows that he has to, especially if he is to make it back to his place before the sun comes up, but after their time bound to the Atoniek Armbands and the subsequent mission to destroy Apophis’ newest ship, she has felt a shift in their relationship. While it seems harder to define this shift during their normal time together as officers, she feels as if she is closer to naming it while her skin cools against his.

However, she is out of time.

Slipping off of him, she watches as he goes in search of his clothes, the warmth of his body still tingling along her bare skin. Something has changed between them, and without the comfort of his body, she wonders if they will be able to get past it. “Are we okay?”

Even through the dim light, she can see the strings of his back muscles tense before shoving his shirt on. She can’t see his face, however, she can feel the stress of his answer thrumming between them, as if his affirmation or denial has the potential to wreak havoc on their ‘plausible deniability’. If he denies it, then it opens themselves up to something that they are unable to follow through and, if he affirms it, then it gives this relationship the power of knowledge.

She shouldn’t have put that on him, not if she was unwilling to make that sort of commitment herself. “Never mind,” she sighs as she turns over onto her other side away from him, “Goodnight.” She wraps her blanket tightly around her body and closes her eyes.

Just as she hears him opening her door, he pauses and, to her surprise, whispers, “We are okay.” Giving her no time to respond, he closes the door behind him. She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t think, until she can’t hear his truck anymore.

Turning onto her back, she stares at the wispy movements of the moonlight through her curtains on the ceiling, thoughts of him plaguing her mind, most likely until the sun’s light begins its stretch in the sky.

She can’t help it, ever since they had first turned down this street they dare not name, he had always left her unable to fall asleep. It was only that first night did he stay until morning, the light from the sun threatening to expose what they had done had driven her to kick him out. For one, single moment she though he was going to fight her, yet, at the last possible millisecond, he slipped out of her bed.

Of course, she had thought that it was going to be a one-time thing, his mind meld with the Ancients and his trip to the Asguards being the final catalyst, although, they had been through worse. She remembers that night as if it were yesterday; the sight of his helpless features when he showed up at her door at two o’clock in the morning, the croak in his voice when he apologized, the gentleness of his touch when she had told him that he had no reason to apologize.

After that, she could not stop herself from allowing him to explore her body, at first through the whispers of his fingers, followed closely by the rush of his lips. And, as much as she knew that it was wrong for them to cross that invisible line, she understood that they needed each other more.

After that night, they had gone on as normal; briefings, assignments, quick jokes and an even quicker trigger finger, when the time needed it, of course. They had both made a silent promise to never speak of their indiscretion.

Then they had taken a trip back to 1969. While they had refrained from taking their frustrations out on each other during their assignment, it had taken all her strength to keep him at arm’s length, especially during the times where her inhibitions were lowered with the flicker of campfire. Yet, the night they were able to return back to their own homes, he came to her at two o’clock in the morning.

Thus, beginning their illicit tryst that they dare not speak of.

After he had left that early morning, she remembers that she had felt invincible, as if all of the stressed that weighed her down had slipped off of her shoulders. From then on out, she explained only to herself anytime she woke five minutes before her alarm from her dreams of him that what they did was only to help alleviate stress.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Her only request to him just before he left her arms for the third time was to come to her at a decent hour. The next time he had come, he had done so at midnight, which made their transition back to Captain and Colonel easier. They never took this outside of her bedroom, never off-world, and never into the bright light of the day.

Tilting her chin, she looks at the time before throwing off her covers. They have a busy day ahead of them with their scheduled visit to Vorash to help solidify the final arrangements for the official treaty with the Tok’ra.

_With any luck_ , she steps into her bathroom, the stark light from fixture causing her to blink several times, _this will be an easy enough mission_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post "Tangent".

“I want this to be more.” She can feel her eyes widen, his clear and concise words being the first thing she has heard from him since returning back home. As he toes the line of the threshold with the tip of his boot, she widens the front door to let him in. “You wanna beer?”

“I want you.” At her hesitancy, he shoves his hands deep in his pocket and gives her his roguish smile. “A beer sounds great too.”

Not yet sure on how to proceed, especially with the sun shining brightly through the blinds, she opens the fridge and takes out two bottles, handing one off to him before chugging half of her own. “What changed your mind?” She wipes the dribble of beer onto her sleeve.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Oh, you know, the usual; boy gets to pilot in a cool spaceship, boy gets stuck out in the middle of space, boy makes a deal with himself if he is rescued, boy gets rescued, boy taking his deal rather seriously.”

“You lost me at ‘cool spaceship’.”

He slams his bottle down onto the counter. “Carter!”

“What do you want me to say? We made a deal after that whole Za’Tarc thing to leave what we had in the room, to never bring it out, especially with both Teal’C and Janet as our witnesses.” There have been so many times that she wanted him to come to her house, to make her believe that they were other people with simpler lives.

“I almost died.”

The softest three words she had ever heard him utter nearly rips her heart out from her chest. “I know.” The feel of his warm skin against her lips while he was sleeping causes her stomach to flip. On route back to Earth, she had broken their cardinal rule of no contact outside of her bedroom, but she couldn’t help herself, not when she thought they were too late to rescue them. “I think I nearly sold my soul to get to you.”

He presses his lips into a thin, white line, his nail scraping along the edge of the label of his bottle still full of beer. “A few weeks ago, you asked me if we were okay?”

That ship sailed off into the Za’Tarc distance, their ‘plausible deniability’ along with it. “Yes.”

“We’re not okay.” He abandons his beer and instead steps in front of her, her back now pressed against the edge of the counter. “I’ve been miserable and I know you have been too.”

She swallows hard, her shoulders tense to help remind her why she needs to keep him at a distance. “We agreed.”

“I know.”

“If we start this back up again, then our chances of being discovered becomes insurmountable.”

“I know.”

“You will be forced into retirement.”

“I know.”

“I will be dishonorably discharged.”

He swallows hard. “I know.”

“Everything that we have worked towards will be smashed to smithereens.”

“I know.”

She rolls her eyes at his lack of focus. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“I still want you.” His opaque eyes renders down her denial, his broad hands moving onto her hips, his body melting against hers. “I promised myself that if I was able to get out of that damn spaceship, then I would try my damndest to make sure we don’t spend our lonely nights alone.”

She feels her resolve weakening, her desire to wrap her arms around him causing her skin to prickle, her heart to race. “You shouldn’t make promises like that out loud.”

He gently kisses her forehead. “I almost died.”

“I know.” She tilts her chin, their lips barely a centimeter apart.

“Plausible deniability can fuck off.”

And she is done fighting against the current, against the rules, against all the reasons she has been telling herself to keep him at arm’s length. Charging past the invisible line they had demarcated after their confessions had been heard by the cold brick walls of their base; their bodies collide, teeth clink, and rushed sighs fill the room. Their clothes become rumpled and are thrown to the ground. What she wants and desires becomes his and vice versa, their confessions boldly written within the hushed whimper of each other’s name whispered in the light of day.

With their bodies now completely stripped, he lifts her up with ease and slips into her. She clings to him, her arms as tightly wrapped around his neck as her legs cling to his waist. She has wanted this, craved it, especially after the missions that had put their lives at risk. She’s fought it, their whispered promise to keep it out of sight, out of mind, burying her hopes far deeper than the darkest recesses of space. And now that she has it, has him, his desires, his needs, his body, his heart, his soul; she now feels complete, as if he were the missing puzzle piece in her one thousand puzzle piece soul.

His hips cantor in a steady beat, his lips studiously mapping the vast plains of her body as if he is committing her to memory. She rakes her fingers through his scalp, his growl of satisfaction causing her to clench around him. “You drive me wild when you do that.”

She is about to give him a snarky reply, but he pulls her into a searing kiss, one that is all tongues and teeth with very little time to savor. And, damn it all to hell, she is close, so close to feeling as if she is about to be on the brink of something amazing. Then she is there, a violent explosion of soft touches and hurried thrusts, their bodies clinging together when they reach that final precipice.

It is when their bodies soften does his legs give out and pulls both of them down onto the floor, one of the knobs digging into her shoulder as the beat of their hearts slow in sync with each other. Her knees are up, his legs are out, their bodies contorted into unusual positions, yet they are still able to lean into one another until her skin prickles with cool air and he show signs of his hyperactive restlessness.

Taking a deep breath, she pushes him back slightly to where she can now look at the dark abyss of his eyes, the truth of their actions on the tip of her tongue. Yet, instead of saying what needs to be said to preserve their rank and their position as a leader and his subordinate, she murmurs, “I want you, too.”

And, because they have already passed that demarcated line of ‘plausible deniability’ and ‘two officers letting off some steam’ and ‘alien influence’, he leans in and kisses her forehead just as lovingly and gentle as when she kissed his forehead twenty nine hours prior when he and Teal’C were pulled from the X301.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was freezing my tail off. I would know a warm kiss anywhere.” He looks at her with a cocked brow, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t think Daniel was that excited to see me.”

Her chin drops to her chest, the brief moment of where her walls came crumbling down replaying in her mind. “Someone could have seen.”

He lifts her chin with the tip of finger. “No one did.”

“You were pretending to be asleep.”

“If someone were to have seen, then my ass wouldn’t be freezing on your kitchen floor.” She can’t stop the giggle bubbling out from between her lips, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Is it possible to move this to somewhere more comfortable?”

She knows that he is desperate to move, the hard floor far too uncomfortable for both of them, but he is also silently asking to stay, to not disappear within the darkness of night. It is one thing to have sex and leave, it is quite another to have sex and to stay for dinner. “I was just about to make dinner.”

He kisses her forehead again and untangles himself, pulling her up with him as he stands. “I can, uhh, I can help.”

She picks up his boxers and throws it to him. “Why don’t you grill the chicken and I can make some pasta.”

He threads his legs through. “I’ll need some more beer.”

As they piece together their clothes, she quietly asks, “What changed your mind?” And before he has a chance to reiterate that threat of death, she reminds him, “The threat of danger always escalates every time we go to work and, let’s be honest, we’ve been through far worse.”

“I made a promise to myself.”

She rolls her eyes. “Promises can easily be broken.”

His brow furrows and his mouth twitches, silence catapulting between them. And there, hidden beneath his gruff exterior of Air Force rules and regulations, she sees it, so pure, so simple.

Love.

For the first time in a long time, she let’s go of her curiosity and let’s whatever is happening between them be. Lifting up onto her toes, she kisses his forehead. “The chicken and beer are in the fridge. I’ll go and turn on the hockey game for you.”

* * *

** Five Hours Prior **

Jack opens his eyes, the soft sounds of the sickbay already starting to irritate his nerves.

“How are you feeling?”

He blinks several times; the sound of that particular person is not one he would typically hear after such a close call.

“You weren’t expecting me to be here when you woke up, however, everyone else needed rest as well.”

He tries to lift himself up; the slight weight on his chest causing him to lose his breath, but otherwise everything else is normal. “How’s Teal’C?”

“As my Aunt Bess used to say, in fine fiddle fashion.” Jack notices that his smirk doesn’t match his snarky comment. “He’s around here somewhere, going on about wanting to find a jelly donut.”

“Yeah,” he winces as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, “he can’t get enough of them.”

“I find that hard to believe that someone of Teal’C’s strength can succumb to the power of a sugary confection.”

“Just recently he found out how bad they are for you.” He pulls the wires and the monitor stickers off of his skin. “He now only eats them after our lives are saved.”

“I can only imagine his Dunkin’ Donut bill is through the roof every month.”

“In his defense, it was down last month.” He looks around the empty room, surprised not to see either the doc or any of the nurses.

“And what is your vice?”

His mouth dries. For the first time in his life, he prays for Doctor Fraiser to walk in and claim that he needs more bedrest. “Nothing too extravagant,” he flippantly throws out, trying with all of his might to keep the image of his daughter out of his mind, “a big steaks, a few bottles of beer, a good hockey game on the tv.”

His dark eyes bore into him, knowing damn well that he is lying through his teeth. “That’s a good cover for the brass.”

“Ah, come on, Jacob,” he steps off the bed, his knees wobbling against the pressure of gravity.

“It’s her, isn’t it.” He’s not asking, he knows.

Panic begins to drum against his skin, but with countless cameras watching them and faceless men behind them, he denies it. “I never thought Carona as a girl, but—”

“Cut the crap!” Jacob glances behind his back and checks his voice. “You know who I am talking about.” When he about to deny it with another witty comeback, Jacob murmurs under his breath, “I saw the way she looked at you, the desperation to get to you before death can claim you. She tries to hide, does a damn good job too, but I can see it.”

He stays quiet. The last thing they both need is an inquiry, one that will surely expose them.

“She loves her job here, loves her work with the Air Force.”

Again, he keeps his mouth shut.

“You two be careful.”

He brows lift in surprise, the implication of his approval causing his heart to frantically beat. “Aren’t we always?”

“When it comes to Goa’uld technology, never.” He rolls his eyes as he stands, taking his jacket from the back of the chair and folding it in his elbow. “You guys take care of each other.”

He gives a small smile back, “Yeah,” he can see the doc now making her grand entrance, “thanks for the pep talk, dad.”

“Colonel!” Doctor Fraiser runs to his side. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“Just trying to stretch my legs.” He looks around to find that the medical bay is now once again bustling with life, the backside of Jacob walking out of the door. “What happened?”

“The server room that is connected to sickbay had started to malfunction. Jacob offered to stay in here with you while we went to go investigate.”

That piques his interest. “Anything damaged?”

“No medical files, thank goodness, just the last thirty minutes of film from the cameras.”

She misses his smirk when she turns to the instrument tray. “In my meager opinion, thirty minutes of me getting my beauty rest is not worth saving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see where this takes us.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taken place during the episode "The Light".

“I’m bored.”

She hides her smirk within her book.

“So you have said many,” Daniel rolls his eyes, “many times.”

Jack ignores him and turns to her. “Did you turn the thingy down today?”

“She did,” Loran squeaks out. When Jack gives him the stare down, he cowers back onto his Gameboy that Jack had given him two weeks prior.

“Whatcha reading, Carter?”

“Alice in Wonderland.” Both of the men give her a curious look while the young kid bangs his thumb on a button. “It’s one of my favorite books,” she mutters with the shrug of her shoulders.

Daniel flips through one of his numerous books scattered around him. “Wasn’t Lewis Carroll a mathematician?”

“Yes.” She gets quite excited. “I love finding all of the little and intricate ways he used math and physics in his book.”

“Oh my god,” Jack dramatically groans, “this is the rabbit hole.” Daniel rolls his eyes while she gets back to her book, both of them quite used to his over-the-top drama, especially within this confined space. He flicks his watch open and closed, quietly murmuring to himself, “We are beyond the rabbit hole.”

“Well,” Daniel stands up and taps Loran on the shoulder, “we’re off.”

She begins to panic, but she does her best to stay hidden behind her book. “Where to?”

Daniel stuffs his bag with his journal and a few of his translation books. “To the library.”

“But I thought you said there was nothing worth reading in there.” She can hear it, the same panic currently surging through her own veins, yet he is able to shrug it off in his own cool fashion.

“I thought so to, but Loran and I found this book yesterday on the T'Kan Empire.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, “The same T'Kan Empire that disappeared over a million years ago without a trace.”

“That’s the one. It’s written in a language that Loran can read. There might be other books in the library as well.” He packs in the Gameboy and box of games. “Did you guys want to come?”

Just as she is about to answer, Jack shakes his head, “Nah! You two kids have fun. Carter and I will be off for a run soon.”

“Suit yourselves.” Daniel throws his bag over his shoulder and leaves the main hall that they have deemed their living room, Loran not too far behind him.

After they hear the thick door leading out to the main hall slam shut, Sam dives deeper into her book. “You can go out for a run if you would like, but I think I’m going to stay here.”

He springs up from the floor and takes the book from her hands. “We’ve been cooped up in this place for the past five days because of the rain. We should take advantage of it.”

She can feel his pent up energy surging through the cramped space between them, her determination to keep the air between them platonic crumbling with each passing day. She was good at keeping him at a distance up until the rain storm, but by the third morning of them waking up to the hard pound of rain beating against the windows, the strength of her resolve melted into a need so great that at times it felt like it was choking her. Never have they ever succumbed to their desires anywhere outside of their own respected homes and she’ll be damned if they begin now; that one kiss on her dad's ship doesn't count. “We shouldn’t.”

He understands her meaning, the slight falter in his bravado and the slight change in his position giving him away. “I never meant that we should…,” he leaves whatever he was going to say hanging between them. She is grateful for it. They might have talked about it in her house a few months back, but it doesn’t mean that they are ready to talk about it out in the real world; even if that ‘real world’ is off world.

“I know, I just…,” she wants to kiss him at this very moment, to press her body against his, “I just think it’s better if we—”

“Yeah,” she is mesmerized by the way he licks his lips, “yeah, that’s a good idea.” He hands back her book and disappears down the hall leading to their quarters.

Throwing herself back on the cushion behind her and sighs. “Damn it.”

* * *

She ends up going on a run. A few minutes after he leaves, she changes into her sweatpants and sneakers and hits the beach.

She’s smart about it though; she knows that he’s going to run through the forest rather than through the sand, his bad knees making the decision easy to predict.

So she runs and runs and runs and runs until every impulse, every live wire, every delicious lick of desire is pushed out of her body. She runs until she cannot run anymore, her lungs burning for much needed oxygen, the muscles in her legs ready to give out despite the long walk back. She turns towards the opium den, or as Jack calls it ‘Hoppy’s Hen House Of Crack and Sex’, just to see it hidden by the dunes of the beach.

Falling down onto the sand, she takes a few deep, calming breaths to help steady her lungs and to loosen her muscles. Gently stretching out her limbs, she is just about to stand to make the trek back when she hears him. “You said you were staying.”

She groans under her breath, both annoyed at his presence and highly aroused that they were fated to meet here. “You never run the beach. I thought I was safe.”

“I didn’t run the beach,” he gruffs, “I ran through the forest but it comes out just over this dune. I usually walk back on the beach.”

And how can she be mad at him for that? Picking herself up and dusting off all of the sand. “We can walk back together.” She walks past him, the heat of his sweaty skin causing the hairs on her arm to stand on end. “Most likely Daniel and Loran will be ready to eat lunch by the time we get back.”

He falls in line with her without a beat, a quip, or one-liner back; which she, of course, finds highly unusual for him.

For about five minutes, the crash of the waves is the only sound she opens herself to hear. Then he touches her, quite by accident she tells herself, when the back of his hand brushes against her thigh. Desire coils and wrenches itself within her belly, the overwhelming need to placate it leaving her quite breathless.

“For fucks sake Carter!” Jack stops just before a rather tall dune and pulls her around so that they are facing each other. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“No.” She crosses her arms tightly along her chest. “It would be against the rules.”

“It’s all against the rules, but we still do it.”

“Easy for you to say; the higher-ups would give you a pat on the back and promote you while they would give me a dishonorable discharge.” Shit! She knows that they are too far away from ‘Studio PX-54’, so much so that they are starting to show agitation, which will not help their cause, but for one brief moment, it feels good to let all of their dirty laundry out of the dark caverns of their secrecy.

“Is that what you think I am thinking?”

She has to slow down his sentence in her heavy brain to understand his words. “What?”

“You think that all I consider you to be is collateral damage, just to be tossed aside when the going gets tough.” He tightens his grip and pulls her closer. “You are more than just an excuse to let off some steam. I thought you would have known that after what happened after my abrupt trip to Jupiter.”

She sighs under her breath. While it has been minuscule, the way they both look at their relationship has changed. On any normal day where she is not under the influence of Goa’uld opium, she would be able to embrace the change, yet, on this particular day, she is not able to comprehend it. “I know that, I really do, but that doesn’t mean we should let our guard down.” She slips out from his relaxed grip. “Daniel or Loran could see us and there is nothing we could say to explain it away.”

“No, but this pent up energy between us will give us away, regardless.” She is about to argue back when he blurts out, “Why do you think they go off to the library?”

For the life of her, she cannot make the connection. “Because Daniel loves going to a Goa’uld library.”

“There’s nothing but a bunch of sex novels in there.”

“All the more reason for him to go.”

He throws his hands in the air. “Your driving me fucking nuts, Carter!”

“Exactly! It’s the drug.” He growls in frustration, but she keeps going. “We’ve been out here for too damn long and it’s starting to takes its toll. We don’t need to be out here having glorious sex, we need to be going back.”

In an instant, his face goes from scrunched and red to open and smirky. “You think I’m glorious?”

She rolls her eyes and makes her way over the dune, not even giving him the satisfaction of her answer; which, of course, would have been a million times yes, but his ego has already been stroked too much in one day.

He follows after her, his begging boots tripping through the sand. “Common Carter, just one go, give this place one last hoorah before we leave forever.”

Her determination is waning, but she tells herself that she’s got to stay strong. One wrong move and both of their careers are finished. “No. We will wait until we get back home.”

“But that’s over a week away,” he whines.

“We’ve gone longer.” There have been many times where they had gone months before meeting under the safe shadows of the midnight moon.

“And it was agony all those other times.” When she doesn’t respond, his step next to her becomes peppier. “Just think how exciting it would be for us to sneak around.”

And, while it’s been getting harder and harder for her to keep herself from saying ‘what the hell’, his last comment just burst her bubble, exposing the real danger playing this game with him. “No and that is my final answer.” She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t make me use ‘sir’ in this conversation.” It’s a good threat, especially when they both try very hard to keep their personal and professional lives separate.

“I never knew you were into that kind of stuff.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind for next time.”

She playfully jabs him in his stomach, the warmth of his arm sliding off of her body as he pretends to look wounded. And, while she plays it off as best as she can, she can’t help but to feel giddy at the idea of ramping up their foreplay, primarily with him calling all of the shots. “Perhaps a welcome home gift when we are actually home.”

His feet begin to drag in the sand, their distance away from their drug dependency becoming smaller and smaller with each step they take. “You’re killin’ me, Carter, absolutely killin’ me.”

“Thankfully that day is not today.” Her mood brightens, her cheeks now full of laughter, their snort of Goa’uld drugged air helping to lighten the load of stress.

He shrugs his shoulder. “You know, in all the places we could have ended up, a Goa’uld Sex Palace is not the worst place to be.”

She stops just before they pass the crippling cabanas. “Yeah, too bad it’s the drug inducing room that keeps us all captive.”

He smirks, the same one he uses when he is about to crack a joke. “I want to be clear on this; if I had a choice between having glorious sex and that damn intoxicating light, I would choose sex any day of the week.”

“At least all the days that end with a ‘y’.”

He takes a step forward, invading her personal space, his hands just itching to find purchase onto her body. Weak with both desire and technologically advanced cocaine, she takes her own step forward, meeting him toe-to-toe. For a split second, she laments that both Daniel and Loran are still tucked away in the library on the other side of the building — what’s the harm in one tiny, itty, bitty kiss?

“Jack! Jack! Jack!” Loran comes running out of the lanai, waving his Gameboy in the air. “I beat it! I beat level twelve!”

Jack stuffs his fists deep into his pockets as he takes a giant step back, “Good job, kid. I knew you would be able to do it.”

“Daniel is in the kitchen making us sandwiches. He told me to come and get you guys.”

And just like that, they are back into the real world, or as real as they can get, with their ranks securely on their shoulders.

* * *

Later that evening, when she walks out of her bathroom ready to go to sleep, she finds a note tucked away on her pillow. Looking at her closed door, she guesses who it could be before unfolding the paper.

_I’m going to buy you a new bed after next weekend. It will be glorious._

Feeling her cheeks flush at the chicken scratch, she folds it up and throws it in the fire.

Ripping out a piece of paper from her notebook, she scribbles down ‘ _Yes, sir_ ’ before folding it up and stuffing it in between the pages of her _Alice in Wonderland_ book.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post "Entity".

“Hey.”

She gives him a weak smile as she widens the door. “Hey.”

“How is your…,” he half-heartedly points to her head, “how are you feeling?”

She takes a deep breath, the eggshells they are walking on too sharp to trespass to safety. “Good,” she chokes out, “I’m feeling good.”

“Good.” His smile is more like a grimace, his lips tightly pressed, his eyes devoid of joy and life.

She can feel the seconds ticking by as if it is hammering against her heart. She knows why he has come to her home, his anxious silence telling her everything she needs to know. While she is one to never dwell, she doesn’t want this to happen, for him to tell her that they can never go back to what they had. Yes, for one moment, one beautiful moment, it was blissful, but that bliss came at the price of their ignorance and arrogance. She takes another deep breath, her arms crossing tightly along her chest. “Look, Jack—”

“I love you.”

She takes a step back, shocked, as if he had just slapped her. “I—”

“I would have never thought a few years ago that…,” he shakes his head, his eyes now focused on the toe of his boot. “I love you.”

This, right here, that bliss she had felt since their talk after his trip in the X-301, is exhilarating and debilitating at the same time. They both want it, but they also know that they can’t have it.

The ultimate ‘catch 22’.

“I can’t do this, Sam.” He is still staring down at his boots, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t love you and be your superior officer at the same time.”

If she were honest with herself, she knew that this day was going to catch up to them. She was just hoping that they would have had more options to choose from rather than the road in front of them filled with agonizing shadows and whispers of ‘what if’s. “I, uhhh,” she swallows hard, “I understand.”

“I’m glad you do.” His reply comes out rushed under his breath.

Anger flares through her, throwing salt in her already festering wound. “Don’t say that.”

“I tried to kill you!” He throws his hands in the air, his own rage matching hers.

“Two shots from the Zat gun.” She takes childish satisfaction at the color draining from his face. “I don’t think anyone can say that they were shot twice and are able to live to tell the tale.”

“Carter!”

“Don’t start with that!” She pushes past him, the sight of his broken eyes causing her heart to break into far smaller pieces. He follows behind her, of course, straight into the kitchen, the same spot they had confessed to something more months prior. “If you wanted to break it off, then you should have done it.”

“But I don’t want to,” he murmurs gently behind her.

She slams her eyes closed, her tears breaking the surface. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry.”

She takes a deep breath in through her nose, wipes away her tears, and begins to clean up the mess she made before he had come to her home. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Sam—”

“We’re back to that now?” At his silence, she wrenches open the refrigerator to place the mayo and cheese back in and slams it. “You can’t do this. You can’t go from one end of the spectrum to the other.”

“You’re right.”

She licks her lips and looks everywhere except at him. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I want you to stay on SG-1.”

“Damn right I’m going to stay on SG-1, unless I have given you cause—”

“No!” She finally looks at him, his features stoic, yet his eyes are soft. “There is no cause to dismiss you from my…,” he shakes his head, his chin dropping to his chest in embarrassment, “our team.”

“Then what? We go back to what we were before?” Her anger once again spikes when he doesn’t answer. “Where do we go, sir? Comrades where we are trying to prove something to one another? Friends flirting that line of ambiguity? Fuck buddies just trying to survive?” Her anger blasts into full blown fury at the shrug of his shoulders. “Don’t give me that!” She pokes him hard in the shoulder. “Answer me.” She pushes him again. “What are we?” She takes a step forward and pushes him with both hands. “Answer me, damn it!”

“I don’t want to shoot you.” He lifts his chin, encouraging her to hit him. “I would never survive if I had to…”

Every last ounce of her resentment leaves her body. A picture, small, wallet size, comes into her mind; a boy, no older than ten with the same dark eyes and half smile as his father. And while his gun shot wound was accidental, hers would have been by his hand.

She takes a step back, her arms folding tightly against her chest. “Ambiguity it is.”

He nods his head.

“We can’t slip up. We can’t go back to what we had.”

“Understood.”

“No midnight hook-ups. No kissing. Nothing.”

“I do love you and, when we are able to…,” she holds her breath, but he doesn’t add to it.

It is then that she understands, that he is never going to add to that sentence, not while they are stuck between this rock and a hard place. “I know.” And truly, she does; he is an honorable man. “Can I ask you to do one more thing before you leave?” _Before we go back to ambiguity_ , she silently adds in her mind.

“Anything.”

“Stay with me, one last time.” His tongue darts out as his eyes shift between her and the door, his brow deepens as doubt cruelly plays upon his normally cool features. “I am alive and, out of all the people who should understand that, it should be you.”

“What if I never leave?”

“You will.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

And while she would like nothing more than to wake up to that same stubbornness that she fell in love with, she also knows that that she will have to push him. Their lives are far from over, their time in a uniform just barely passing its one-minute mark. They have more work to do and they will do it. “Come along.” She grabs his hand and pulls him towards her bedroom.  
  


* * *

  
“Hmm,” she murmurs under her breath, her thighs gripping his hips tightly as she picks up speed.

The sun, with its gleaming rays, is just about to crest over the horizon, bringing with it a brand-new day.

They had spent their night, their last night, wrapped around each other; legs, arms, hearts, desires. All was shared, yet nothing was said aloud.

There was no need.

“Sa-manth-a,” he captures her hips, his gentle tug and pull allowing them to reach that precipice. Keeping the pace he has set, he reaches up with one hand and massages her breast while the other slips between their slick bodies.

“Oh, yes… right…,” she bites down on her bottom lip as his circling thumb now dictates their speed.

“Look at me.” Her eyes flutter open, his own like molten lava. “Look at me when you come.”

Her hips falter, but his thumbs do not.

His jaw grips tightly, the tips of his fingers biting into her flesh. Just as they are both about to slip comfortably into sweet oblivion, he whispers, “I love you, Sam.”

Her heart implodes, just as beautifully, articulately, and horrifically as a black hole.

She falls down to him, her lips crashing onto his, begging him to cast the sun away, to make time stop.

He wraps his arms around her body and effortlessly flips them over, their connection never lost. “You just,” his hand captures her cheek, “say it.” His lips smolder against the curve of her neck. “One word,” he lifts himself up, “one word and I will never leave.”

_Stay_. It is on the tip of her tongue, their easy way out of certain pain, but she swallows it. Drawing the tip of her thumb along his bottom lip, she kisses the corner of his mouth, their bodies cooling at each passing moment. She looks over his shoulder to see the first tendrils of light peeking out over the horizon of the trees.

Kissing her forehead, he untangles himself from her body, like ripping a Band-Aid off.

She cocoons herself within her comforter as she watches him redress. _We need to do this_. She clenches her jaw. _This needs to happen_.

He runs his fingers through his hair before he stands from her bed. She bites down hard on her bottom lip as he reaches for the door. “I…,” he looks back at her, the warmth of his eyes growing dark with each passing second the sun climbs, “I will see you later.”

“Yes,” grief clutches her throat, trying with all of its might to keep her from drawing that line that they need to draw. “Yes, sir.” Her words, barely above a whisper, douses the room in a frigid drift. She hates it, with all of her might, but it has to be done, it has to be said. The first one will always be the hardest, but she is not naive enough to know that every other time after will be just as gut-wrenching as the last. She can hear him draw in an agonizing breath, one that is stubborn, but she shakes her head. “I will see you later, sir.”

She doesn’t look at him, refuses to, until she hears the front door gently close.

It is then, when the silent stillness pounds against her ears, does she shove the covers off of her body and head towards the bathroom. With one step in front of the other, she pulls their relationship back onto to safer ground, to an innocence she loathes, and where they are nothing more than the rank squarely pinned upon their shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure where this is going to go. We shall see as I continue to binge the series.
> 
> Please stay safe and healthy during this time!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post 'Resolutions'.
> 
> I still cry when Daniel decides to ascend. 😪

“Here we go.” Jack stops his truck in front of her house.

She gives him a thankful smile that has no drive to reach her downcast eyes. Between Daniel’s death and the close call of Earth’s demise from Anubis’ weapon, she doesn’t want to leave his company. In fact, if she were to dig deeper within her soul, she is downright scared to walk into her house alone.

They have been good at keeping their once romantic relationship buried and hidden behind the walls of their duty and rank, never once going beyond a comforting hug or shameless flirting.

But now…

She takes a shaky breath as looks towards the roof of the truck to keep herself from crying, or worse, to keep herself from asking him to do the impossible. “Thank you.” Unbuckling her seatbelt, she scurries out of his truck and rushes up to her front door, the light from her front porch becoming prismatic as her tears gathers. Just as she fumbles for her keys, she hears a creak from behind her. “Please leave,” she desperately calls over her shoulder, successfully inserting her key with trembling fingers.

She is just about to slam the door after slipping in when he catches it with the heel of his hand. “Sam—”

“Don’t!” She throws her keys down on the ground as she faces him. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not.” He gently places both of his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

She braces herself against his chest to maintain a safe distance between them despite the tears now streaming down her cheeks. Her heart forcefully tugs at their connection; weeping at the loss of one friend and needing comfort from the other. “Please leave.”

His hands slide down to captures her elbows. “He was my friend too.”

“You…,” she bangs her fist against his chest, enunciating each syllable, “you let him go.” Exhausted, she folds herself within his embrace, his soft shirt catching all of her tears.

“He wanted to go.” He wraps his arms around her, cocooning her from the stark frigidness of the reality surrounding them. “To have kept him alive would have been…,” he slowly exhales, his fingers running through the ends of her hair, “it would have been cruel.”

Deep down, she knows that he is right, however, it’s not why he died that is bothering her, but how. No one will know that he selflessly gave his life for a planet of people whom he had met that day. No one will know how many times he has saved their own planet or that he has helped countless other lives. No one will ever know how important he was.

And it breaks her heart over and over and over again.

Wiping the remaining tears with the help of his jacket. “Stay with me.” She refuses to look at him. She had told him the year prior that they could not do this, but now, after Daniel’s death, she finds that she doesn’t care.

She can feel hesitant trepidation fluttering through the silent air between them, however, after a few seconds, he gives her a nod.

Not giving herself time to overthink her decision, she pulls him towards her bedroom. Her own apprehension now sliding into a conviction that what they are doing is necessary, that they will have no repercussions come morning. Staring at her bed, she takes comfort that she will be sharing it with the man that she loves. “I’ll set the alarm to go off in a few hours.” And while it has taken her the better part of a year to be able to freely admit, only to herself, of her love for him, she knows that she could never confess it out loud to him, not while they continue to call each other by their rank rather than their names.

“Thank you.” He carelessly throws his jeans and shirt on top of his boots.

She kicks her shoes in her closet and shoves her clothes in the laundry basket.

“Is this new?”

She turns to find him down to his boxers and examining her bed with the tip of his fingers treading down the swirls and grooves of the bedposts. “The other one held too many memories.” Adding her bra to the dirty clothes pile, she then pulls on the first overlarge shirt her fingers can find.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” When her eyes widen in fear, he shakes his head. “Not you,” he nervously clarifies, “never you, but the Avalanche?”

She looks down at her white and red shirt and shrugs her shoulders. “Teal’C, Daniel…,” she grits her teeth to keep herself from crying again, “the three of us had gone to a game.”

They both fall into the bed together, his arms opening wide for her to snuggle against. “You guys didn’t invite me?”

She throws her arm across his stomach as if all of this is natural. “There were only three tickets and Teal’C thought that you would talk during the whole game.”

“I’m hurt that you wouldn’t invite me.”

She rolls her eyes as she presses her lips together to keep from laughing. “Yet, I noticed that you didn’t deny that you would talk during the whole game.”

He takes a deep breath in, “Yeah, well he doesn’t know the fundamentals of the game.”

“What’s there to know?” She giggles under her breath at his affronted sigh. “There’s one puck and each team has to hit the puck with a stick to score a point. The team with the most points wins the game.”

He throws his hands in the air. “There is so much more to the game than that!”

“Not for Teal’C.” She tightens her arm around his warm body, enjoying this relief he willingly provides from the real life that awaits them in the morning. “He’s even thinking about taking Master Bra’Tac next time he comes to visit.”

“Well, that’s it!” He pulls her closer to his body. “I’ll make sure to invite him to a hockey game before Teal’C even has a chance.” He kisses the crown of her head. “It’s be a better game too.”

Her heart and stomach flutters inside her like two nervous butterflies, the realization hitting her square in the face that their morning will be met with heartache. Shaking her head and snuggling deeper within his embrace, she forces her body to relax. “And if he visits during the off season?”

“I’ve saved all the best games.”

She laughs under her breath, the tension in her shoulders slowly melting as her eyes start to feel heavy. “You are incorrigible.”

“Sleep tight, Sam.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”  
  


* * *

  
—Be-Beep, Be-Beep, Be-Beep, Be-Beep—

“Ugh!” Jack reaches over to turn off the alarm by slamming his fist on it. “You need a different alarm.”

“My dad gave me this one because he knew I would hate it.” She snuggles deeper within his warm embrace trying in earnest to ignore what is to come. “How much time do we have left?”

He exhales loudly. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On how you want the day to go?” When she peaks one eye open, she sees him smirking down at her. “We can pretend that we don’t have work tomorrow and play hooky today, veg out, watch a really good playoff game, maybe grill up some steaks.”

“Or?”

“Or I can go in and work on some paperwork,” he makes a gagging face, “while you can go in and tinker on… whatever it is you tinker on.”

“So, we can either be Jack and Sam for the day or go back to Colonel and Major?” Silence befalls upon them, the precise tick of his watch matching in beat to her heart. “We have been doing really good.”

She can hear his head thud back onto the pillow. “Yeah.”

“Our friendship has become stronger.” _Formidable_ , she adds in her mind.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think we should go down this path again?”

He is quiet, yet she can hear his mind churning. “I have missed this.”

God knows she has missed it too. In the year since they had called it quits, there have been many times she had silently begged for him to come to her house, to wake up next to her just like they have done tonight. It has not been one-sided either. She could have sworn that there were times he had given her a look of pure need, and, had it not been for the rocky walls of Cheyenne Mountain surrounding them, she would have willingly followed him. “I miss this too.”

“However?”

“We have been doing really good.”

She can feel his chest sinking. “I understand.”

She lifts herself onto her elbow, the sight of his crestfallen features piercing her heart. “Do you?” She places her hand on his bare chest. “I miss this; however it would also mess up what we have worked so hard to build this past year.”

He places his hand over hers, his eyes like warm, gooey chocolate, even in the pale moonlight. “I would like for us to go back to what we had.”

“But we can’t,” she settles back into his embrace, “at least not while you are the Colonel and I am the Major.”

“Why did you ask me to stay?”

“I… I don’t know,” she whispers against his chest.

“Sam…,”

She swallows hard. She knew he wasn’t going to take her answer at face value. “I shouldn’t have, but I needed you and, I think, you needed me too.” She can feel her tears prickling the corners of her eyes; shame at her actions, depression from Daniel’s death, and self-loathing at actually hoping that they would be able to move on from this night so effortlessly. All of her feelings rolling into one discorded ball of misery. “I’m sorry.”

“No. You don’t—”

“I messed things up between us.” She curls her body in, catching her tears with her Avalanche shirt. “I was being selfish and—”

“Sam, stop.” He lifts himself onto his elbow and carefully pulls her out of the cocoon of her making. “There have been many times I’ve had to stop myself from going into Hammond’s office and giving him my resignation.”

The anguishing thought of him leaving chokes her. “Don’t do that.. please. Not now. Not with Daniel…,”

“Come here.” He lays back down, beckoning her to cuddle against his chest, which she does. “There will be a time when we will be able to be just Jack and Sam.”

She wraps her arm around his body. “I look forward to that day.”

And for a long while, they stay wrapped around each other, clinging to the thought of sharing a bed indefinitely rather than until the sun comes up.

Just as the beginning vestiges of a brand-new day starts streaming in through her window, he kisses her forehead. She knows by his resigned sigh that he is going to tell her that he should leave. “Can we make out?

Laughter uncontrollably spills out from her, all of the tension she had stacking along her shoulders crumbling into small pieces.

He lifts her chin with the tip of his finger. “Is that a yes?”

Her stomach flutters excitedly, her heart’s strong cadence being felt within her throat. Yet, as much as she wants to give in to those darling lips she has been dreaming about, she also knows that she will not stop herself or him if they decide to take it all the way. “Just a small kiss.” She giggles at his sad puppy dog pout, but her resolve never waivers. “We’ve been doing good.”

“Well,” he rolls her onto her back by towering over her, “if it’s a small kiss you are asking for, then I’m going to make it a damn good small kiss.” And before she can resist, he captures her lips with his own, so unbelievably soft and full of wonder, his fingers running through her hair.

As far as small kisses are concerned, it’s the best small kiss she has had in the past year.

In fact, it’s the only small kiss she has had in the past year.

Just as she sweeps her hand around to the small of his back, he leans out slightly from their embrace, breathless with the feel of their hearts beating as one, his eyes dark with desire. As much as he wants to continue from where they started, he gives her the choice.

She should push him away, say a funny joke about the Avalanche or about making out, yet, instead, she captures his cheek with her free hand, her thumb tracing along his bottom lip. She doesn’t want him to leave.

She doesn’t want to be good anymore.

She pulls him down onto her body, their lips reconnecting, their hearts, once again, synchronized.

He hooks her knee around his hip, the feel of his—

“Major Carter?” The sound of Teal’C’s deep voice wrenches them apart. “Your door was unlocked.”

She pushes Jack off of the bed, his arms flailing out as he falls over the edge.

Rushing out of the covers, she makes sure that he is okay before snatching her robe off of the bathroom door. “Get dressed,” she mouths, pointing to his pile of clothes before slipping out of the door. “Teal’C?” She finds him in her living room. “You scared me!”

He bows his head. “My apologies, Major Carter. It was never my intention to cause concern.” His eyes continue to glance around the room. “I noticed that Colonel O’Neill’s truck is parked outside.”

She takes a deep breath, her nerves pitching and rolling like calamitous waves in the pit of her belly. “Yes… well…”

“Carter invited me in to have a beer.” Jack comes through, his clothes rumpled, yet, his demeanor confident. “We got to talking about Daniel and before I knew it, we were a few beers in deep. Carter was gracious enough to let me sleep it off in her spare bedroom.” He tilts his chin towards the Jaffa. “What are you doing here?”

“I was unable to achieve Kel’nor’em so I decided to come and visit Major Carter to make sure she is well.”

“Did you drive?”

“No, I was able to procure a mode of transport through the use of a taxicab.” He holds up a bag of donuts from behind his bag. “I was also able to pick up sustenance from Dunkin’ Donuts.”

Jack perks up. “Sweet.”

“Thank you, Teal’C.” She envelopes him into a tight hug. “I’ll go ahead and start the coffee.”

“Perfect.” Jack settles on the sofa. Just as she disappears behind into the kitchen, she overheard him say. “Let’s see if ESPN has any hockey highlights from last night’s game.”

Giggling under her breath, she counts her blessings that Teal’C seems to have taken Jack’s explanation as to why he is at her house. Now, she hopes, that he will be able to keep it to himself.  
  


* * *

  
“Thank you again, Teal’C, for the breakfast.” Sam hugs him tightly, her smile genuine and beautiful. She then turns to him, her blue eyes bright, a little mischievous. “Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to restock your fridge with some good beer.” She rolls her eyes at him, his stomach doing that flippy thing whenever she is sassy with him. “We will see you tomorrow.” She waves them off as both he and Teal’C walk to his truck. “Is there anywhere you need to go?”

“Cheyenne Mountain is perfectly acceptable.”

Driving off, he allows the silence between them to grow comfortable, something that is so easy for just the two of them to achieve. That is one thing he likes about Teal’C and one thing he’ll miss with Daniel – a congenial silence. Teal’C lives for them, while Daniel would find them extremely excruciating to the point of finding anything to talk about. He bonds well with Teal’C; there’s no awkwardness, nothing too upsetting; everything is cool, calm, and collected.

“So, O’Neill,” they both look at each other, “you are Major Carter’s mate.”

His heart literally drops to the pit of his gut, his confidence in his earlier explanation as to the reason he was at Carter’s house now laying in shreds on the floor of his truck. First reaction; act dumb. “Mate as in…”

“As in the one you are meant to be with, your sexual partner.”

“Ah!” Panic begins to seep deep within his bones. Second reaction; deny it. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say.”

“You are very protective of her as she is of you.”

“She is very protective over you and Daniel.” The present tense in relation to Daniel is gut-wrenching. “At least she was protective of Daniel.” He stops at a traffic light and turns to him, playfully smacking him in the shoulder. “Come on, Teal’C, this is what happens when you work with a team for as long as we have.”

“Yes, but she gave her heart to you.” He says it so matter-of-factly, as if he had known what they have been up to since they had first started three years ago. “You are her mate.”

Their silence is now oppressive, edgy, however, he feels that is mainly on his part. Teal’C looks as cozy as a puppy in a warm blanket. And smug.

—Beep,Beeeep—

Focusing his vision, he sees that the light is green and that all the cars that were in front of him are long ahead of him. Third reaction; ignore it.

That lasts for about five seconds. _Teal’C is a bulldog puppy._ “Perhaps, O’Neill, you should tell all of those at the SGC who wish to mate with Major Carter that she is already spoken for.”

“Listen Teal’C, we are not…” _Wait!_ “What other people?”

“The other men who find Major Carter attractive.”

His vision turns red. “Who else finds her attractive?”

“Major Hules, Doctor McKay, Airman Bosworth, Technician Alberts, Staff Sergeant Hann—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…,” he focuses all of his energy on the winding road ahead of him, “I get your point.” He hates that all of those men have it out for Carter, almost as much as he hates telling a smug bulldog puppy Teal’C that he is right on everything that he has said. Once more, he can’t admit it, not out loud, and certainly not this close to the base. If word gets out, even as scuttlebutt, their careers are over with a dishonorable discharge for her and a court martial for him. He must deny everything. He has to.

“Mornin’ Colonel O’Neill.” The guard, Airman Johnson, gives him a peppy smile.

Trying hard not to be snippy with the young kid, he gives him his badge. “Morning.”

He swipes his badge and writes his name on the docket before giving it back, pure sunshine and rainbows beaming out from his white teeth. “All set, sir.” He nods towards Teal’C. “How did Major Carter like the donuts, sir?”

He looks towards his friend, Teal’C’s eyebrows slightly lifting at the young airman, silently telling him that Airman Sunshine is also on the long list of Carter’s potential suitors. “She liked them very much.”

Now, he’s just annoyed. “Yeah, well, you can open the gate now.”

With wide, alarming eyes, he rushes to push the button to open the gate, saluting as he drives by.

Felling a slight prick of satisfaction, that soon shifts into apprehension when he parks his truck. He’s got to make sure that Teal’C does not tell anybody else about what he saw or what he thinks of their relationship. “Listen, Teal’C—”

“I am aware of the rules within your branch of military, your secret will remain only with me.” Teal’C tilts his head to the side. “Is there no way to circumvent it?”

Fourth reaction; acknowledge it without verbally admiring it. Making sure that all windows and doors are sealed, he shakes his head. “No, not without either one or both of us leaving, retiring, being dishonorably discharged, or court-martialed.”

“Then what is your course of action?”

“Nothing.” He looks at his friend out of the corner of his eye to see him in addled by his lack of drive. “We move on as we would normally do.”

“I see.” Silence once again seeps within the truck, sticky and thick. He knew he should have left her to run in her house the night before, to leave their relationship as it had been for the past year, but he had seen the tears. He refuses to idly stand by while she is crying, he can’t, not when he is head over heels in love with her. “Major Carter is a good woman, strong willed, fierce in battle, yet with a kind heart.”

“Yeah,” he sighs under his breath, only half listening to his friend. _Beautiful_ , he silently adds in his mind, _absolutely beautiful_.

“If you should break her kind heart, then I will have no choice but to break your face.”

He blinks several times and swallows hard. If there is one thing he knows about the Jaffa, other than having a squirmy snake in their body, is that they take their promises seriously. “Okay.”

“It would hurt me to do so, O’Neill, as I have found you to be a formidable leader, however, I am also protective over Major Carter.”

“Right,” he can feel his face scrunching is disbelief, “I can tell that your broken up inside.”

“Perhaps,” Teal’C looks at him thoughtfully, “you can write a love poem to Major Carter.”

_I can’t believe I am having this conversation_. He checks out of his window to make sure he’s not in the twilight zone. “A what?”

“A love poem; a piece of writing that partakes of the nature of both speech and song that is nearly always rhythmical. Also, something that arouses strong emotions because of its beauty.”

He stares at him as if he has three heads growing out of his body. He is actually speechless. Most people find him to be a stupid jarhead, never a poet. “I’m glad to see that you are enjoying that set of Encyclopedia Britannica that I bought for your birthday.”

And, of course he ignores his slight jab. “Do you not find Major Carter beautiful?”

Repeat fourth reaction, acknowledge it without verbally admiring it. “That’s a trick question.” Teal’C lifts his brow and gives him the stink eye, the ‘I’ll-beat-your-ass-with-one-punch’ stink eye. “Of course, she’s beautiful,” he admits in a whisper under his breath, “but I’m not going to write her a poem.”

“I noticed that she finds your play on words rather amusing.”

“Yeah, well, that’s a long way away from writing poetry.” He pulls out the key from the ignition, already over this conversation.

“There is much for you to learn, O’Neill.” There he goes with that smug smile. “I shall teach you.”

He makes a face, not amused or excited to take a class on poetry with Teal’C as his teacher. Instead, he changes the subject. “Speaking of teaching, Carter told me that you went to your first hockey game without me.”

Teal’C rolls his eyes. “You talk too much, O’Neill.” When he throws his hands in the air, he reiterates, “Only Major Carter finds your words amusing. I find that you talk too much.” And with a smirk this time, he opens the door of the truck and steps out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so in the episode 'Metamorphosis' after Sam comes back from being with Nirrti, I love how Teal'C gives Sam and Jack privacy when she needs to rest. That small scene is what inspired the last half of this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post "Death Knell" and "Heroes"

—Knock, Knock, Knock—

Jack lets out a frustrated groan at the annoying sound of someone wanting to intrude on his downtime, a new episode of The Simpson’s about two away minutes from starting.

—Knock, Knock, Knock—

Rolling his eyes, he stands and makes his way to the door, ready to ream out whomever is on the other side. “What the hell — oh!” He shuts up real quick when he sees Jacob Carter standing before him looking rather comical in one of Teal’C’s brightly patterned shirts. “I can see that you raided Teal’C’s closet.”

Jacob glances down and shakes his head. “Yeah, I think I’m going to do him a favor and accidentally lose it.”

“That’s his favorite shirt.” He widens the door and invites him in with the flick of his wrist. “You want a beer?”

He sourly sighs, “No. Selmak hates the taste.”

“Sucks for you. I think I have some cranberry juice that Teal’C left behind.” He’s already on his way to the kitchen. “You’ve already got his shirt, why not pair it up with his favorite drink?”

“Funny!”

Pouring a glass of juice, he then grabs a beer for himself before meeting Jacob in the living room where he finds him looking at an old picture of his family.

“Cute kid.” His eyes never leave the photo as he takes the glass. “What happened?”

Not wanting to go down that particular memory lane, he stalls. “You never checked up on me before?”

Jacob grins and settles in the seat across from him. “After meeting you for the first time in DC, I turned in a ton of IOU’s, but your file was almost all redacted. I tried again after rescuing you and Teal’C from the X301. I was successful at viewing some of your military record, but not your personal.”

As the memory of that day surfaces, including his trip to Sam’s house, he takes a large swig of beer and murmurs, “Was that before or after our little chat?”

“After.”

He takes another sip, then another, then another. While he is great at playing the waiting game, he knows that Jacob would kick his ass at it, the little snake in his head boosting his life expectancy. “Sara and I divorced six years ago.”

“Do you see your kid?”

His mouth instantly turns to sand, grief painfully wrapping its long tendrils around his throat. “He died a few years before the divorce.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs his shoulders, beyond ready to move on from this conversation. “So what do I owe the pleasure?” He clears his throat. “Other than seeing you in this over-sized shirt that is currently hurting my eyes?”

“I’m going to be leaving soon. I won’t be able to come back for a long while.” He wisely keeps his mouth shut. While there are many things he can say about the Tok’ra and their dramatic standoff, he knows that Jacob is here for more personal reasons. “I want you to keep an eye on Sam.”

“I always do.” He is a little – no! – very upset that Jacob thinks he does not take Sam’s health and well-being seriously.

“Are you two…,” he suggestively lifts his brow, “still…?”

“No. We cooled it down a few years ago.”

“Her idea,” he squints his eyes, “or yours?”

“Both.” He takes another sip. While it was the right decision, he hated it from the moment he walked out of her house the morning after as nothing more than friends.

“Hmm, could have fooled me.”

“Listen, Jacob—”

“I need you to be there for her during her off hours.”

He takes another swig to keep himself from either rolling his eyes or saying something that he knows that he will regret. “Carter doesn’t know the meaning of ‘off hours’.”

“Then maybe you should remind her.” Jacob gives him a pointed look, poking him in a tender spot. “She needs to have downtime, she needs to know that—” 

“She already has somebody,” he adds under his breath, “else.” Swallowing down the rest of his beer, he abruptly stands and makes his way to the kitchen to help gather his thoughts.

He remembers the night she had come to him, telling him that she was going a date with another guy. He played it off cool, showing her that he was indifferent to it, but inside he was raging. The next day, he had every intention of walking into Hammond’s office to give him his resignation, but then the whole thing with Daniel and Osiris came to head.

He remembers seeing them talk and laugh as he walked past the infirmary and, at that moment, he knew he could not hold her back. He was always going to be her superior officer and they had no plans of giving up SG1, not when there are so many things still left unfinished. So, he let her go and it’s been hell for him ever since.

“Listen, Jack, I don’t know what or who she’s got herself wrapped into, but I can tell you, that without a doubt, you are her endgame.”

And, as much as he wants to hold onto Jacob’s words, he knows that somethings are just not possible. “She made the right choice.” He digs out another beer from the fridge. “She deserves happiness.”

“She is happy,” Selmak’s deep voice reaches his ears, “happy with you.” He turns to find that same impenetrable stare that Jacob does so well. “Even Jacob Carter knows that, despite the fact that it is his offspring that you are having an affair with.”

“And here I thought he wanted to kill me.”

“He very nearly did when he found out, but then I made him remember the moment you two shared after your rescue from the X301 and he was reminded of his own wife, whom Samantha shares many physical attributes.” He draws his eyes closed to help Jacob return. “Look, Jack, I just need to know that you will be there for her, to protect her.”

“I love her.” Silence bombards the small kitchen, each one staring at the other with fixed eyes, neither one willing to give up this go around.

Yet, Jacob is the first, surprisingly, to give in. “Then act like it.” Turning, he makes his way towards the front door.

For about two seconds, he was content on letting him leave, but then changed his mind just as he hears the door open. “Jacob!” He runs after him, catching him opening the door to the General’s car. “I’ll, uhh, I’ll make sure that she’s safe. You have my promise.”

Silently nodding, he folds himself into the car.

Watching him drive off, he wonders how Sam will take the news of her dad’s imminent departure.  
  


* * *

  
—Kerplop!—

Looking up from the same report he has been trying to read for the past thirty minutes, George finds Jacob Carter at the foot of his office door.

“Thanks for letting me barrow your car.”

He glances down at his keys and pulls them into his desk drawer.

“I think that is one thing I miss about living on Earth, driving.” Jacob closes the door and settles in the chair in front of his desk looking every bit as defeated as how he sounds. “When Sam was a young kid, she would always help me fix up this Mustang I was salvaging. Between all of the missions and call outs, it had taken us several years just to get it running.” He grows silent, visibly lost in his memories.

“Jacob?”

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I made sure to fill up the gas tank and to do some routine checks.”

“The motor pool does a fine job of maintaining the car.” One of the perks of being the commander of the base.

“Yeah.” He once again becomes lost in his own thoughts, no doubt his daughter taking front and center.

He closes the file and pushes it off to the side. “Where did you go?”

“Oh, you know, here and there. It was nice to get out for a bit.” He sounds genuine, but he can tell that he is not speaking the whole truth. “I’ll be returning to the Tok’ra home base tonight.”

“I’m sorry we have to part ways.”

“Yes, well, that’s what happens when you get too cocky.”

He bows his head in shame. “You’re right, of course.”

“You’re damn right!” Anger flashes in his normally composed features. “You’re biting off more than you can chew. You need to slow down before someone else gets hurt or killed.”

Now, normally, he can take a dress-down, especially when he deserves it, but not like this one, at least not since he had asked Louise’s dad for her hand in marriage. It’s too personal. “Are you still talking about Earth or your daughter?”

“She was hunted down, George. You of all people will understand the ramifications of what will happen to her.”

In an instant, images as dark and cold as space infiltrates his mind, every small sound sounding like cannon fire, the smell of fear and death surrounding him, choking him. In Vietnam, his unit had landed behind enemy lines. They were captured, but they were able to escape. The Viet Cong hunted them down, picking off his friends left and right. “It’s not not something I have had to think about for a long time.”

“I’m sorry, George.” He glances up to find Jacob rightfully looking regretful. “I’m just scared that her luck will run out and that there will be nothing I can do to protect her.”

“What is it you want me to do?”

“I just want to make sure that she is going to be happy, that there is life beyond that damn Stargate.”

Feeling his fingers nervously curl into a fist, he checks around the enclosed room to make sure that all doors are securely closed. “She does have a friend outside of here.”

To his complete surprise, Jacob rolls his eyes. “I’ve heard, which is absolutely ridiculous.”

“How did you hear?”

He looks guilty. “Scuttlebutt.”

Now, he’s just confused. He had met Mr. Shannahan very briefly and he seems to be an upstanding gentleman, despite his curiosity. “You want her to get out and live her life, yet, you don’t like her choice.”

“He’s a distraction. I don’t want her around him.”

“And who is it that you would prefer?”

Jacob snaps his mouth shut, obviously aware that he has said too much. “No one,” he uncomfortably sighs, “I’m sure that guy will be fine.”

And while he’s okay with letting it go, he can’t help but feel curious as to who he has in mind when it comes to his only daughter’s happiness. He has his own guess, but the regs being black and white on that particular subject, he has had to tread carefully. “Jacob, what do you know?”

“Nothing, George.” He stands from his chair. “I’m going to go check on—”

“You’re talking about O’Neill?”

He can see cold fear running through Jacob’s veins. “That is **NOT** who I am talking about. Far from it.”

He holds up his hand to quell both his fear and his voice. “I’ve known about them.”

His eyes widen. “You have?”

He looks around once again and nods. He remembers seeing the pictures and the detailed report all those years ago, feeling both betrayed at their obvious disregard for the rules and embarrassed at witnessing something that was incredibly private. For months, he had waited for the other shoe to drop, for some uptight politician or ignorant operative to come in and force him to fire them, but it never came. So he did what any other desperate commander would do in his situation; he let it go and allowed it to run its course, praying like hell that they wouldn’t mess it up.

He knows that it probably wasn’t the best decision to make, the fate of his clean career on a thin line, but, he’s not stupid either. The defense of Earth against their current enemy is far more important than two of his officers letting off some steam and so he willingly turned a blind eye to their growing affection.

Anytime they would meet, he would get a detailed report and time-stamped pictures of the colonel’s truck staying at the major’s house for the night. Something happened between them a few years back and they have remained quiet since then. However, he can tell that their feelings for each other have not disappeared, only amplified.

“For how long?”

“Since it began.”

“And, you aren’t going to…”

He firmly shakes his head. “I know that, without a doubt, we need them both if we want our planet to survive. They’ve kept it off base so I have never had to worry.”

He drops his head within his hands. “Holy Hannah!” He peaks through his fingers. “Does anybody else know?”

“This is just a guess,” Jacob lifts his chin and nods, “but, I believe Teal’C and Doctor Fraiser knows. I am not sure about Doctor Jackson.”

“And that’s it?”

Again, his fingers curl into fists in his lap, fearful that Jacob is going to blow his gasket. “I found out when someone sent me a report and pictures.”

He can literally see steam blowing out from Jacob’s ears. “Pictures?”

He holds up his hand. “Nothing like that. It showed his vehicle parked in front of her home for the entire evening and him leaving before dawn.”

His head falls all the way back. “Fuck.”

“I don’t know who they are from, however, if it was someone who wanted to get rid of them or discredit the program, then it would have come out already.”

“George, I know you risking your entire career on this,” he holds out his hand, “but thank you.”

He takes his hand. “You can pay me back by fixing our relationship with the Tok’ra.”

“Consider it done.” They shake hands and then let go. Standing together, he is just about to leave when he turns back and pleads, “Please take care of her.”

“Consider it done.” With a laidback salute, he opens the door and walks out.  
  


* * *

  
—Knock, Knock, Knock—

She looks over the back of her sofa towards the front door, the drone of the tv quietly playing in the background going unnoticed for the past few hours. Gingerly standing, she reasons that it might be Teal’C or Daniel even though she had told them many times that she wanted to spend the weekend to herself. She knew it was not going to be Jack, not like this, never in the daylight. When she opens the door, she nearly has to remind herself to pick her chin up from the floor.

“Good afternoon, Major,” General Hammond gives her a congenial smile, his civilian clothes making him look more like a grandfather than her superior officer.

“Good afternoon, sir.” Out of habit, she straightens her back and lifts her chin.

“At ease, Major,” he slightly stumbles in awkwardness, “I am here as a friend. May I come in?”

“Of course!” Shaking her head, she hobbles to the side to allow him in. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure.” He makes his way towards her living room.

She bypasses into the kitchen and pulls out two bottles of water and two bottles of Guinness. Placing them on the coffee table, he immediately goes for the beer.

“This looks like Jack’s favorite beer.”

Her stomach lurches. While it has been nearly two years since their last dalliance as Jack and Sam, she is still fearful that there is evidence of there affair, the numerous political skirmishes never sitting well with her, especially when it comes to Senator Kinsley. “He brought it over for team night a few months back.” In truth, she keeps his favorite beer in stock, secretly hoping that she will find him at her door at midnight. Pete hates the taste of it.

His smile is kind. “May I call you Samantha?”

Again, she is surprised by his candor. “Sure, although, I don’t think I can return the compliment.”

He laughs, his eyes sparkling in the early afternoon light. “You know, one of my oldest friends happened to be my commanding officer in Vietnam. I could never call him by his first name, even after he retired.” She stays quiet as he takes a small swig. “I know you must still be upset with Jacob’s abrupt departure.”

She nods, only keeping to herself the several nights of crying she’s had since watching him walk out of the infirmary.

“He had come to me before going through the Stargate asking me to keep an eye on you. While I am not allowed to show favoritism towards any officers, when a friend asks me to keep an eye on his only daughter, I have no choice but to say yes.”

It’s her turn to smile, yet she feels as if it is more of a grimace. “I’m fine, sir.”

“That is something that I hear a lot, Samantha, and, I have to admit, I never believe it.” His brows tilt up in understanding, his eyes downcast. “You’re a soldier. The words ‘I’m fine’ will always be in our vocabulary.” He reaches out and pats her arm as if she is his family member. “What I am trying to say is that you can come to me for anything.”

And, while she doubts she would ever go to him with boy problems or her lack thereof, she finds comfort in his offer. She does look to him as a father figure, with the exception of getting a dress-down from him. “Thank you.” Thoughts of her own father swirl through her mind, tears already starting to gather. “I feel as if I had taken advantage of the past few years. I never thought that it would be a long time until I would be able to see my dad.” Guilt vines along her throat, her bottom lip trembling. “I thought those days were long past me.”

“We messed up.” He unabashedly looks at her, not afraid to show her when he is wrong or hurting. “We got cocky in thinking we could get away with hiding our own secrets and we were caught. Jacob knew that and covered our asses. If we have any hope to continue our alliance with the Tok’ra, then we will have to trust him to get us back into their good graces.”

“I read the report and I understand his role, I’m…,” she dips her chin to wipe away her tears, “I’m just upset that it was at the sacrifice of being able to see him.”

He gently squeezes her elbow. “I am sorry.”

She takes a deep breath, swiping away the rest of her tears before looking up. Despite his offer of being the stand-in for her dad, she still finds it very uncomfortable showing her true feelings in front of him. “Thank you, sir. I have faith that we will see each other soon.”

His encouraging smile lifts her spirits. “Me too.” He settles back into his chair and takes a sip of his beer. “Now, I have one piece of advice before I take my leave.”

She lifts her brow in curiosity, “Sir?”

“I’ve been in the Air Force for over forty years. After my first tour in Vietnam, I learned real quick that I needed someone to help ground me, to help bring me back to reality. It didn’t take me long to understand that Louise was that person for me.” He takes another swig and places his half empty bottle on the coffee table. “I understand that you find your work important and, god knows, it is, however, don’t let that be the reason to not find someone that helps you to see what’s important in life.”

Her first thought is of Jack; his smirky smile, his dark chocolatey eyes, the warmth of his body enveloping her, but then she remembers that she can have him in that capacity. At least not yet. Then Pete comes to mind, the complete opposite of Jack. He’s funny and a nice distraction, but he’s not the one that she loves. At least not yet. “Thank you, sir.”

He nods and stands. “Now, don’t be stubborn like your father, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

She stands and gives him a light hug. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll see myself out. Make sure you rest.” With a small wave, he slips out of her living room.  
  


* * *

**  
2 months later **

“Viola!” Pete shows off the piping hot dish with gusto. “The best baked ziti you will have in your whole life.”

She laughs, though not as much as she would have, but it’s a laugh and she’ll take it. “I’m sure I will love it.”

He leans in and kisses her cheek. “Not as much as I love seeing you smile.” He kiss her again and pulls back. “The bread is warming in the oven which will give this enough time to cool. Did you pick a movie?”

She looks down at her choices; ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’, ‘Bruce Almighty’, or ‘Lost in Translation’. Never keeping up with movies, tv shows or music, she is honestly at a loss at what to pick. _Maybe I should change that_.

Glancing up at Pete fishing out the silverware, she is actually glad that he is here. She had forgotten that they had made plans to meet for the weekend. She was actually arguing with herself on whether or not to go to Jack’s house when he had knocked on her door. Not wanting to be alone, she figured that Pete was the safest choice, at least one that will not get her court-martialed. “Pirates of the Caribbean?”

“Be honest,” he checks on the bread in the oven, “is it because it has Johnny Depp?”

“Who’s he?” He turns to her with eyes as wide as saucers and, being the worlds worst liar, she laughs, which feels damn good.

“You know, if circumstances were different, then I would have tickled you for that little joke.” He lifts her chin with the tip of his finger. “It is good to hear you laughing.”

Tears prick the corners of her eyes, her heart shredding at the guilt of leading Pete on. He’s a good man, funny, selfless, but he’s not Jack O’Neill and, while he can be a good distraction for her, she knows with every fiber of her being that he deserves better. “Pete, I think—”

—Knock, Knock, Knock—

They both look towards the front of the house, her mouth as dry as the sand on Abydos, her heart drumming against her throat. “I’ll… I’ll get it.”

“Hey,” he captures her hand, “don’t forget, this is your weekend off.”

He is right, of course, but she not sure if that’s what she wants. Slipping out from his relaxed grip, she gives him a small smile before making her way to the front door.

Time stops. The space around her pauses. Her lungs and heart ceases to operate. The man in front of her giving her a halfhearted smirk, his eyes as lonely as a desolate planet. “Hi.” His one word tells her exactly what he wants, begging for her to take him in.

“Hi.” She nervously glances over her shoulder.

“Am I interrupting—”

She slowly shakes her head, their eyes finding each other through the haze of the soft porch light. She wants him to come in, to keep her company, to hug her just as tightly as the day before, to tell her that he will not let her go. She wants him, yet, she can’t have him.

He reaches out and curls his fingers around hers, their connection sparking a powerful surge within her. She takes a step forward, ready to leave her life as Major Carter behind and to go anywhere he wants to take her.

“Hey, Sam!” They quickly disconnect as Pete comes up from behind her, the air instantly turning chilly. “Who’s at the — oh, hello Jack.”

She quickly wipes away her tears at another missed opportunity.

“Hello.” He lifts his chin in confidence, his bravado on point.

“Does Sam have to go in?” Pete wraps his oppressive arm around her shoulder, its weight nearly causing her knees to buckle.

“No!” His eyes darken at the show of possession, but he hides it well. “No, I just drew the short straw and wanted to make sure that Carter here was doing okay.”

“Oh,” Pete gently squeezes her shoulder, “did you want to join us? We have some baked ziti cooling and ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ ready to go on the tv.”

“Johnny Depp?” His brows lift in interest, his eyes still fixed on her. “You don’t say?” He swallows hard and smirks, his aloofness convincing. “Thanks, but I draw the line at cannon balls and overdone makeup. Besides, now that we know that Carter is being taken care of, I can make my way home.”

“Alright.” Pete glances over his shoulder. “I’ve gotta take the bread out of the oven.” He slips his arm out from her body and waves. “It’s good to see you.” He scurries back towards the kitchen.

Jack’s friendly smile quickly melts into heartbreak, dejected misery drawing his eyes down to the tips of his boots. “I’ll leave you to it.” He turns away from her, the dark shadow from the moonless night enveloping him.

And like a shot in the dark, running on faith alone, she goes after him, blindly reaching out to him and pulling him within the darker shadow between Pete’s Jeep and her garage. His hands fall to the curve of her hips and, within a breath, she wants his hands all over her; cradling her, touching her, comforting her, loving her. “Jack,” is the only thing she mumbles before his lips crashes onto hers.

“Oh!” His breathing comes out in short wheezes just as her arms wrap around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” Her apology, though, goes much deeper than just pressing against his bruised ribs.

He wraps his arms around her shoulders, gently kissing her forehead with patient lips. “You should get back in there.”

“I don’t want to,” she stubbornly murmurs against his chest.

“You must.” He kisses her forehead again. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“I wanted you here.” She gingers slips her arms around his waist, this time cognizant of his condition.

“I shouldn’t be here and you know it.” He captures her cheeks within his palms and lifts her chin, his kisses short, yet loving. “Go back inside.”

She would gladly run away with him, even if it’s just for a few hours. “Jack—”

“That’s an order.” He pulls away from her, visibly hurt from such a small act. “Please.”

She doesn’t sway that easily. “But, I can—”

“No!” He gently pushes her away towards the soft light of her porch light. “And Carter,” he calls out loudly to her, “lay off of the science stuff for the weekend. Enjoy your time off with Johnny Depp.”

She is about to argue back when she sees the door open from her peripheral vision, Pete looking slightly confused as to why she is outside and not in.

Jack shoves his hands deep inside his pockets as he steps next to his truck. “Make sure she doesn’t dive nose-deep in one of those physics books where there are more letters than numbers in a math problem.”

She glances over her shoulder to see Pete giving him a wave in acknowledgment.

“Goodnight,” he softly calls to her. Sliding into his truck, he starts the engine and is out of her driveway within seconds.

Having nowhere else to turn to, she slowly steps back onto the porch, her eyes never leaving the tail end of his truck until he turns the corner.

“What was that all about?”

Through the grace of god, she is able to contain her tears, never letting one escape. “I had an idea about a project we have been working on.” It’s so easy to lie, especially when all of her work is classified. She doesn’t have to give specifics and he knows that. “I was running it by him, but then he told me that it can wait until Monday.”

“Good man.” He widens the door as she walks in. “I have dinner and the movie ready.”

“Great,” she chokes out.

He fans his fingers through along her palm and pulls her towards the living room, back to the distraction that she hates, back to the diversion she knows she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your continued support! 
> 
> I have 2 more chapters planned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post "New Order"

Shutting off the engine, she pulls the small piece of paper out of her pocket and checks the address one more time. Satisfied that this is where she is supposed to be, she kicks out the kickstand and rests her bike. She fiddles with her helmet and gloves for a few moments longer than necessary, curious and slightly aroused as to how all of this will play out.

Approximately five hours ago she opened the envelope to find an address, this address, written in his handwriting. For about five minutes she wrestled with the idea of meeting up with him; scared that they will get caught, guilty for cancelling her plans with Pete, despite breaking up with him a month ago, and thankful as hell at having him alive. In the end, she called Pete and told him that she would be busy for the rest of the week and requested time off from Doctor Weir. After that, it was a straight shot to this cabin, the roads just as winding and bumpy as her anticipation.

Looking around, she is satisfied by the cabin’s seclusion with the dirt road going up the mountain and the nature preserve surround her from all angles.

“You made it.” She glances over her shoulder to see him barefoot and in a pair of old jeans on the cedar porch, looking sexy as hell. “You want one?”

“Thanks.” She steps up and grabs the bottle of beer, taking a large sip, it’s bitter taste exactly what she needs after the long ride.

“You didn’t bring any clothes.” He doesn’t seem to mind much.

“I changed into my civvies and came straight here.” She steals another sip, both of them taking advantage of the gorgeous view rather than to face each other. “Besides, I don’t think I will need clothes during our stay here.”

Oddly pleased when he slightly chokes on his beer, he clears his throat and mutters, “I’m glad I did the grocery shopping before you came.”

There are so many provocative replies that rush through her head, yet she quiets them, preferring to allow the silence of nature to quell her nerves. After all that they have been through, specifically after Janet’s death, she finds herself at a crossroads of how she wants to proceed. At some moments, she wants to selfishly push him away to keep her hard-earned position on SG-1. At other times, she desperately wants to run away with him, to leave all they know behind in a cloud of dust. Separately, both options are amazing and suck at the same time, however they cannot have both.

Never both.

“How long do we have?”

In his deep breath, she knows that he too finds this bubble that he had created a façade, fragile to the strum of time. “I’m paid up until Sunday.”

She nods. “I was only granted a four day leave.”

His smirk is smug, the long lines of his dimples catching the late afternoon sun. “I’ll be reinstated in four days.” And just as she is about to probe him further, he captures her elbow and escorts her inside. “Let’s have some dinner. I made chili.”  
  


* * *

  
He loves it when she’s on top of him, riding him, her hip swaying and cantering to a melodic beat that she can only hear in her head. He loves that his hands fit over the voluptuous curves of her hips. But most of all, he loves how breathless she gets when she is so close to reaching her own peak, her eyes screwed shut in concentration, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth.

“Look at me.” He loves throwing her that curve ball.

Her eyes open wide, her normally curious blue eyes are now dark and filled with hungry desire. She loses her footing, the peak of her orgasm now a little further away, but he’s okay with that.

He’s got plans for her, plans that only include her pleasure and nothing else. Widening his knees, he moves both of his hands to cup her ass and, damn it all to hell, does he go deeper inside her. She feels good, so fucking good, and it’s been a long time, so fucking long, that just that slight change in position has him ready to blow.

“Look at me.”

His eyes snap open just to see her smirk at catching him at his own game and, my god, does he fucking love her.

Her hands slips off of his shoulders and gains purchase on the back of the couch, her thrusts becoming stronger. “Jaaack,” she delicately whispers against his lips. She so desperately wants to close her eyes, but she has always been very good at following his requests, especially when it has the capacity to intensify both of their senses.

Sliding one hand over the curve of her stroking hips, the tip of his thumb easily finds her clit and she is gone. Her body trembles against his chest, yet it’s her muscles that chokes him into submission.

Just as he is coming down from his high, she melts into his arms, her cheek lying against his shoulder. He knows that the afterglow is her favorite part. There have been many times that he wants to offer her a cigarette, but he knows that she would find it neither funny nor useful.

Kissing the nape of her neck, he wisely keeps his joke to himself and, instead, wraps his arms around her body. He loves this moment that they share. Too frequently in the early days of their affair, this would always have to be rushed, but now with four long and gloriously empty days in front of them, they an stay like this forever.

“I have to go potty.”

_Oh_ …

She kisses his neck and wiggles out of his embrace, tip toeing down the dark hall to the only bathroom.

He feels quite lonely without her, even though she is only down the hall. When he hears her flush and turn on the sink, he picks himself up from the couch and cleans up their jumbled mess of clothing they had created, slipping on his boxers and leaving his old Chicago Cubs T-shirt on the chair for her.

“Why did you rent the cabin for the whole week if you knew we had to be back in four days?”

Boy, has she been holding that question in since that afternoon. He could feel the apprehension of that question all throughout dinner and the little bit of the hockey game that they were able to catch, their interlude into sexy time notwithstanding. “Put the shirt on,” he points to his favorite tee, “it’s supposed to get a little chilly tonight.”

“You just like the challenge.” Despite her smug smirk, she does as he says.

He smiles back and kisses her shoulder as he walks by her to place their dirty bowls in the sink. He does like the challenges she sets before him, both professionally and personally, but he doesn’t want to think about work, not when his second-in-command is standing naked just a few feet away from him.

“Jack?” She’s getting restless or curious or both, however, he can’t help but feel elated at the use of his first name from her lips.

Covering the pot of chili with the top, he places it in the fridge before making his way back to her. “General Hammond is staying in Washington.”

“He told me when I went to go visit Mitchell in the hospital.”

“Doctor Weir is not staying either.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Scuttlebutt.” From a very reliable source, but not yet official.

“They are going to promote you.” It’s more like a statement than a question. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“I get a sweet parking space.”

She rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t change anything between us.”

His chin drops to his chest, the color of the rug far more interesting than the truths they still have to face. “No.”

“But then why—”

“I wanted to keep the option open.” He glances up to see her innocent eyes wide, slightly terrified at what he is proposing. He knows that she is already aware of their options, her big brain computing the variables at lightning speed, but he needs to say them out loud so that they can talk about it. No matter what they choose, it is a big decision and it’s one that they need to make together. “We can either leave after four days and return back to base or we can remain here and figure out a plan after that.”

Her brows furrow deep in thought. _Not a good sign_. She tightly crosses her arms along her chest. _Definitely not a good sign_. “It’s not that simple, Jack.”

“It never is, Sam.” Yeah, he’s a little annoyed that she is finding crater-sized holes in his options, but, essentially those are it.

“What do you want?”

“I always want you.” His answer is so simple, yet it continues to cause friction between them.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Instead of answering, he turns the question back onto her. “What do you want?”

He can see it, her smartass reply on the tip of her tongue, yet, at the last minute, she wrangles it in. “I don’t want us to hide anymore.” Her shoulders sag in defeat. “I don’t want to give up on gate travel either.”

“I feel the same...”

“… but we can’t have it both ways,” she finishes for him.

They both are now staring at the same identical spot on the rug, an impasse now standing before them where both roads are marked with dark, caliginous clouds of the unknown.

“We have a few days to think about it,” he captures her elbow and pulls her towards their bedroom, “let’s go to bed.”  
  


* * *

  
She runs her fingers through his short hair, encouraging him to continue with the enthusiastic flick of her hips. She had been so used to waking up with the sight of his retreating back against the rising sun, she had never known anything different, but this morning is different.

It is the first time that they are able to be lazy.

It is the first time they can just be Jack and Sam without the oppressive weight of their ranks tying their stomachs into knots of guilt and fear.

It is the first time she can see him as the carefree man she has come to love.

And in true Jack fashion he had waken her like an excited puppy by jumping across the bed. Yet, instead of trying to get her to open the door, he had settled between her legs, his excitement instantly turning into a biting anticipation, one deliciously marked with the desire to make her forget about all the mornings he has had to leave her.

His fingers now tangle within the mix of his devilish tongue, the strum of their beats are opposing, yet, in concert, they work like a finely tuned orchestra.

“Ohhh, Jaaack.” Her back arches as he he shows her no mercy, no sign of ever letting up. She shoves her hand up the Cubs shirt he had given her the night before, desperate to add a slight pinch to her already heightened body. “Ohhhh…” she is there, her orgasm within her reach with the slight tilt of her hips.

She can feel it, his eyes boring into her, silently begging her to look at him. When she does, she instantly reaches her peak, the sight of his love for her tipping her down the blissful path towards love’s immortality.

And just as she melts into the mattress, he is above her, his hips poised against hers, a slight smirk playfully ghosting along his lips.

Yeah, she can definitely get addicted to waking up like this for the rest of her life.  
  


* * *

  
“Why haven’t you been reinstated?”

She looks to him and her heart nearly skips a beat when she sees a rugged smirk tugging the lines of his dimples all the way up to his eyes. “I was officially declared MIA. Hammond had told me that it would take a few days to process and change the paperwork.”

Now she is surprised. “Really?”

“I asked him to lose the paperwork. He was only able to guarantee me four days, five max.” Standing up, he takes both of their empty plates inside the cabin. When he comes back outside, he is carrying the full pot of coffee and pours both of them a fresh cup. “When I heard that Doctor Weir was leaving, I wanted to give us some time to re-evaluate our relationship.”

And, while she finds the sheer thought of that conversation stressful, she is soothed by his willingness to keep what they have alive. “What did you tell Hammond?”

“You mean other than wanting to have wild, crazy sex with you?” His brow suggestively lifts, no doubt taking in the fruits of the wild and crazy sex they have had so far with her lack of clothes and just-been-fucked hair.

“You did not say that.”

“I told him that after all that I have been through, that I wanted to think things through before diving head-first into another mission or project.”

Now somethings are starting to click. “He told you about Doctor Weir.”

Again, he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s just scuttlebutt.” He takes a sip of coffee, slightly wincing at the heat. “They want to promote me to general.”

Lifting her feet onto the chair, she covers her bare legs within the spacious confines of his Cubs shirt. “That comes with the job.”

“I’m not sure if I’m suited for it.” She looks to him, curious as to why he would say something like that. “I can lead the SGC, that will never be an issue. My problem is with the politics that come with it. I would never view myself as a diplomat. I always left that up to you or Daniel or Jonas.”

While she knows that diplomacy was never his strong suit, she also knows that he is very passionate over the protection of Earth against the Goa’uld and other misogynistic regimes. “Would you trust anyone else to run the SGC?”

“You,” he fiddles with the handle of his mug, “I would trust you to be both diplomatic and cognizant of all that needs to be accomplished.”

Despite her lack of clothing and the satisfying way he had woken her up this morning, she is flattered by his confidence in her leadership skills. “While that might be a goal down the road, I don’t think I can skip ranks.”

“They want to make me a general, Sam, anything is possible.”

It was meant to be a joke on his behalf, but she doesn’t like the implications that he is making when it comes to his own achievements. “You’ve earned it, Jack. You should be promoted, you should be placed in charge of the SGC.” When he gives her a noncommittal shrug, the state of his coffee far more concerning than their conversation, she stands up and gently settles in his lap. “You’ve earned it.”

He wraps his hands around her waist and kisses the tip of her shoulder. “It sounds like we have made up our minds.”

She leans into the warmth of his embrace, her head fitting perfectly within the curve of his neck. “The choice to continue on or not is your choice to make.”

“And if I retire?”

“I hear there are nice fishing spot around here to keep you busy.” Her body tingles as he lightly runs the tip of her fingers along her spine. “However, I’m not convinced that you will be satisfied with full retirement.”

His warm breath tickles the back of neck as he slowly exhales. “Is is selfish?”

Lifting her head, she braces herself onto his shoulders. “No, not when I don’t want to give up gate travel.” For no other reason other than to see him smile, she kisses the tip of his nose. “I don’t feel like I am finished. Our job is not accomplished, not with the Replicators still off god knows where and the Goa’uld still running amok.”

“Running amok?” He tilts his head, a sly grin playing with the corners of his mouth. “Are you part of the Sanderson Sisters now?”

She rolls her eyes, the scene from Cassie’s favorite movie causing her to giggle on the outside and grieve on the inside. The image of her, Janet, and Cassie having a girls night and watching the same movie for the thousandth time twists her gut into inseparable knots.

“I’m sorry.” He lifts her chin with the tip of his steady finger. “I have nothing but good memories from watching that damn movie.”

“Me too.” She now thinks of Cassie as a freshman in college, overly excited, yet working hard to make good grades.

“After our vacation, I was going to pop in and check on her.”

She tries to keep a straight face, yet fails spectacularly at the idea of him crashing one of her study groups or classes. “Don’t embarrass her.”

“Who? Me?” He is the model of innocence with his his large puppy dog eyes. “Besides, I need to make sure that she is set up with all the books she needs.”

“Don’t mess with her boyfriend.”

His shoulder fall, his features as serious as a heart attack. “I thought they broke up.”

“They did. She has a new boyfriend.” She can see his blood pressure rising. “He’s a nice kid.”

“Ugh!” His head tips back in fatherly frustration. “Carter, he’s a boy and a college kid at that. He needs someone to punch him around.”

Playing him like a fine fiddle, she snaps her fingers and sighs, “Oh, I forgot to tell you that both Teal’C and Colonel Reynolds as well as a few SG personnel paid him a visit within the span of a week.”

He throws his hands in the air, obviously relieved that common sense had not died out. “Thank god!”

She giggles under her breath, all fathers very protective over their girls.

He strategically places his fingers on certain ticklish parts of her body. “Don’t think I forgot how you played me.” He then unleashes his tickles, her muscles caving in as her laughter rings out in the early morning light. Just when she thinks he is relenting, he curves his arms under her body and lifts her up. Carrying her inside, he throws her down onto their bed and continues his tickling reign until both are smiling too wide and breathless from the short distance between them becoming far to intimate to let go.  
  


* * *

  
“So, uhh,” she looks to him with those bright blue eyes, “it’s still the SGC?”

Her brow dips in confusion for a second and then slips into pity when she understands his question. “For now.” She bites her bottom lip. “Unless…”

He’s been going back and forth since they had talked about it their second morning here. Now that they are twelve hours away from returning back to the real world, he wants to make sure. “I just… if you want something different…”

“I think we both want something different.” Her eyes widen in surprise, almost as if her words came out faster than her mind allowed it.

He tightens his hold around her shoulders. “Different is good.”

“But is it right?” Her chin tilts down in defeat. “It’s not the best moment.”

He knows that it never will be, but he doesn’t want her to shy away from him more than she already has. “We can reevaluate after a few months or a year.”

“Do you honestly think that the Goa’uld and the Replicators will vanish after a year?”

“The Goa’uld, yes, especially with the rise of the rebel Jaffa.” But then he concedes. “The Replicators may take a little longer.”

Silence reigns supreme between them, the quiet nature that surrounds them almost as deafening as the anxiety of their day tomorrow.

“I think Pete was going to propose before I broke up with him.”

Her one sentences, thirteen unlucky and stupid words, punches him in the gut, the only silver-lining being that she had broken up with him. “Hm,” is all that he can manage, the words ‘marry me’ on the tip of his stubborn tongue.

“He started out as a distraction from the one man I couldn’t have, a way for me to see if I was blind to what I could have around me.” He has to physically hold himself back from begging her to chose him when she takes a shaky breath. “He’s funny and kind and honestly sees himself happy with me, despite all the flaws and secrecy that surrounds my life.” His heart breaks when he sees her wipe away a tear. “He deserve better than this.” She wiggles her hand between them.

‘Then stay with me, be with me,’ is clawing it’s way out from his throat, the painful press of his lips the only thing holding them in. He can’t do that to her, he can’t honestly expect her to wait for him or for the perfect moment. There will never be a perfect moment, at least not one that he can produce. “I think,” he clears his throat, “that you should chose happiness above all else.”

Her face scrunches angrily, her body humming with an energy ready to burst at any moment. “If I was able to chose happiness, then I would have chosen you a long time ago.”

Her words and their implication slaps him across the face. “Listen, Sam—”

“Don’t.” She sharply lifts her chin, her blue eyes begging him not to go any further. “Please.” She captures the hand hanging off of her shoulder and gives him a gentle squeeze. “Let’s give it a year.”

He is unsure if she is talking about their positions, Pete, or both, but he’ll take it any way she can give it.  
  


* * *

  
“Congratulations, son,” Hammond gives him a bottle of beer, “you are officially reinstated. Your promotion in both your rank and as the commander of the SGC should be passed unanimously by the end of the day.”

He feels himself pale at the idea of being in charge of the SGC.

“It’s not as frightening as it sounds.”

He places the bottle on the desk in front of him, the sight of the Hammond’s nearly empty home driving his fear further into the pit of his gut. “General, are you sure—”

“That you’re the best fit to take command of the SGC?” His eyes are twinkling and he can’t help but feel a sense of calm anytime his eyes twinkle. “There is no doubt in my mind.”

He slowly exhales, his heart and his sense of duty still at odds with each other. It has been twenty-four hours since he and Sam had left their peaceful oasis and he’s still trying to keep himself from resigning right then and there.

“It’s a difficult position.” He looks up to find Hammond deep in thought. “You are constantly at war with yourself between what you know is right and what you know you have to do.”

He folds his hands within his lap, guilt clenching around his throat. “I know we didn’t make that easy on you, Sir.”

“If I could go back, I wouldn’t change any of the decisions I have made with SG-1 or any other teams,” he lowers his voice, “but that is not what I mean.”

He lifts his chin to see the General looking back at him with hard pressing guilt. “Sir?”

He leans over and takes something out from his desk drawer, a plain manila file grasped within his hand. “I’m not sure if General Bauer or if Doctor Weir had received anything like this, however, with the way Bauer holds Major Carter in esteem, I don’t think he knew anything about it.” He rolls his eyes. “He is a cantankerous son of a bitch who follows the rules to the letter.”

At the mention of Carter, his heart begins to pound mercilessly against his chest, the loud rush of blood making it hard for him to focus. “Sir?”

He hands over the file. “I’m sorry, Jack, but you have to know.”

He rips open the file to see a set of about twenty pictures and pages of detailed reports on certain nights, _the nights I had stayed at Sam’s house_. There is nothing incriminating, but it doesn’t take much for the Air Force to arrest them for conduct unbecoming of an officer, not to mention all of the regulations they had broken. For a moment, he can’t breath, can’t think, the image of Carter being charged like a common criminal ripping every inch of his body to shreds.

“I began receiving these about four and a half years ago.”

His mouth is like the desert, his mind sluggishly turning to work through what needs to be said without implying the truth of their relationship. “Sir, I—”

“I made a choice, Jack, to turn a blind eyes to these four and a half years ago.”

Realization knocks him in the head, despite the overwhelming evidence, nothing has come of it, but that doesn’t make him feel better. Not by a long, damn shot. “You shouldn’t have, sir.”

“I had no choice, Jack. It was either follow the rules and lose two of my best officers or keep quiet and play dumb. At the end of the day, I chose to keep quiet. With earth in peril and a fraction of the higher-ups even knowing about our enemies abroad, I could not knowingly give into those.” He points towards the now closed file sitting on his desk between them.

While he should be on bend and knee, thanking the general for sparing their immediate court-martial, he knows the he is not actively looking for accolades. He is giving him a warning. “Who gave them to you?”

“I am not sure. Every time that you and the Major had met, I found these on my desk with the other mail the very next morning. No name, no finger prints, not even saliva.”

“And there has been nothing else other than what is here?”

“No, this is all I have.” The general’s eyes narrow. “Should there be anything else?”

And, while he knows he should keep his trap shut, the General did put his trust into him. “We had spent some time together this week.”

Hammond shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Is that why you wanted me to lose your paperwork?”

“I wanted us to figure out what we wanted.”

“Hm.” He shifts again. “With you still declared MIA, then that should pose no problem, but that would never stop the JAG office or a certain vengeful ex-vice president.”

“General, I think you should burn these.”

“I am handing them off to you to do what you see fit.” Hammond takes a log sip of his beer. “Jack, you know as well as anyone else that the military has a black and white view on your relationship with the Major, I think their ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy saving your asses.”

“I’m in love with her, sir.”

He sadly shakes his head. “That complicates your situation far more than it helps.”

“I want you to know that we didn’t do this out of careless disregard for the rules or disrespect towards you.”

“Be that as is may,” he gives his bottle a hard stare, “you will need to make sure you do everything by the book. You will now have more enemies than friends and those enemies will strike you when and where you are most vulnerable.”

Pure anger surges through him, already finding the politics of this position tedious and annoying.

“If they are powerful enough to come after my grandchildren, then going after Major Carter’s reputation will be easy.”

“Than I’ll make it easy.” He pushes the folder back to Hammond. “I’ll retire.”

George gives him a pitiful smile. “You know too much. They would never allow you or Major Carter to retire.”

He slams his fist on the edge of the desk. “Damn it, George! This is our lives.”

Hammond holds up his hands to help calm him. “My best advice for you, son, is to be patient and to make as many friends as you can. If you are lucky, maybe in a year or so, you will be able to work in Washington with me. Your options will then be far greater than what you are facing now.”

He can’t help but to let out a mirthful laugh. “Are you sure the brass picked the best person to run the SGC?” At Hammond’s confusion, he elaborates, “Carter had said the same thing; to give it a year and to weigh our options.”

Hammond chuckles to himself. “If Major Carter were Colonel Carter, then she would have been chosen to lead the SGC within a millisecond.”

An idea comes to his mind, one that might keep the brass both happy and at bay. “What about Lieutenant Colonel?”

Hammond chuckles again. “That should be easy enough.”  
  


* * *

  
“What the hell was that?”

He winces as she makes her grand entrance into his office with the slam of the door. “Carter, sit down.”

“No!” She crosses her arms along her chest, her silver leaves shining under the spotlight of the fluorescent lights.

He was hoping more of a ‘thank you’ from her and maybe some cake, but he is not surprised by her anger either. Opening one of the boxes that he had brought in to unpack, he brings out the file Hammond had given him and hands it to her. He turns away from her, too much of a coward to face her head-on.

“Oh… oh my god.” He can hear her falling into the chair. “How did… how did you get these?”

He buries his hands deep within his pockets, the fate of their relationship now cemented. “General Hammond gave them to me.”

“Oh, no.” She sounds breathless, no doubt regretting everything they have done. “But these…,” the paper rustling makes his teeth grind, “these are dated years ago.”

“The General would receive this report every night we would… meet. With only two options afforded to him, he chose to ignore them. Since then, nothing has ever come of them.”

“Who else knows?”

He swallows hard. “Unknown.”

“Weir?”

“She’s an open book. She didn’t say anything.”

“Bauer?”

“Unlikely. We had not met during that time and, according to Hammond, Bauer still holds you in the highest regard.”

“Kinsey?”

“He would have used it to discredit us and the program by now.” He tilts his chin to the side where he can see her within his peripheral side. “What about your guy from the NID?”

“He doesn’t know anything.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“He flirted with me.” Rage fires through him, yet he smothers it down. “Anytime that I’ve been to Washington, he’s asked me on a few dates.”

“Hm.” He wants to ask her more about him, yet he clamps his mouth shut to help keep his jealousy at bay.

“Don’t.” He grits his teeth. “You have not right to be jealous.”

He swings around. “And you have no right to date the NID.”

She shrinks away as if he had slapped her. “I’m not sleeping with him. It’s standard recon all under the approval of General Hammond.”

All of his anger slowly steps out of him, leaving nothing but shame and disgust at his behavior. “I’m sorry.”

“Please.” She flicks away a lone tear with the tip of her beautiful fingers. “You’re not sorry.” And before he has a chance to rebuke her statement, she whispers under her breath, “If its not Kinsey or the NID or the Air Force, then who could it be?”

“Sam,” he calls to her, “I don’t think we will ever find out?”

“We must, sir!” God, that three letter word always gets to him. “If we don’t, then they can strike at any moment we are vulnerable.”

“We have no other choice.”

She looks at him with big, blue eyes and he silently swears that he will do anything she asks him to do. “Then I officially hand in my resignation.”

Anything, except that. “You can’t. You’re a national treasure.” She blushes at his superlative. “You’ve blown up a sun, for god sakes.” He takes the file from her lap and slips it in through the shredder. “From here on out, I have officially named you as the second-in-command of the SGC.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You are the best option, one that the brass had no qualms about giving their confirmation. Your name was the only one that was given an unanimous vote for approval.” In truth, it was for her protection, an out that can be given for her to save her career by putting the blame on him. It just so happens that the big brass in Washington loves Carter just as much as he does.

“And what about us?”

“On hold for the foreseeable future.” It physically hurt him to say that, yet it needed to be said.

“And Pete?”

A sharp pain drives through his chest, just as piercing and menacing as the spike that pinned him to the concrete wall. “That is your area of expertise, Lieutenant Colonel.” God, he feels like a douche bag, but he has to keep her at arms length; at least until he can figure out who had sent the report to begin with, a few of the originals safely stowed in a locked box in the cabinet behind him.

Her brows cross as her military training shoots up her spine. “Yes, sir.” Standing up, she makes it to the door when she turns back to him and asks, “After a year?”

He wants to tell her that it is his endgame, that he will have a plan put in place for them to finally be together. However, with this bomb waiting to explode at any given vulnerable moment, he doesn’t want to make promises, not when he is prepared to allow all of the blame, should it come to blows, to fall onto him. “Dismissed, Colonel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time posting in this fandom. Any and all feedback is appreciated! 
> 
> Happy New Year!


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